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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140045">Softly Speak Your Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdyBanter/pseuds/BirdyBanter'>BirdyBanter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Person of Interest (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, Feelings Realization, Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:36:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdyBanter/pseuds/BirdyBanter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold asks for something unusual and John is glad to oblige.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harold Finch &amp; John Reese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Softly Speak Your Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you enjoy the read.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s so easy for a mission to go wrong. And that one was hard on Harold; he was stuck trying to talk down the man who wanted to hurt our number. He had to keep him as calm as possible until I could arrive and use a more direct approach. It was one long half an hour for both of us. And I was feeling almost as strung out as he was. </p>
<p>	I got us back to the library. As we walked in I noted the tremor that was running through him as I gently took his arm and steered him to the sofa in the back room. It could have been his old injuries playing up but I thought it was more the stress and strain of the day. The adrenaline crash, the relief and that high alert, after shock. I would have put extra sugar in his tea but then he would have refused to drink it. As it was he barely had a few sips before handing it back to me. Hands shaking. A forced smile of thanks on his face. </p>
<p>	‘Why don’t you tell me how you normally unwind, Harold.’ I asked because it was worth a try.</p>
<p>	‘You know how.’ He said with a sigh.</p>
<p>	‘Good book?’ I asked</p>
<p>	‘Yeah or some classical music.’</p>
<p>	‘Can I read you something?’</p>
<p>	He shook his head.</p>
<p>	‘Put some music on?’</p>
<p>	Another shake of the head.</p>
<p>	‘I’d offer to run you a bath, but we don’t have one here.’ I said hoping humour might help.</p>
<p>	He shook his head again and I was out of ideas. We both went quiet for a while there until unexpectedly Harold broke the silence.</p>
<p>	‘When I was a young child, five or six at most my Grandfather used to tell me stories. Well more specifically he made up stories to tell me when I was sick, had a nightmare or if there was a storm, things like that and it always made me feel better.’</p>
<p>	I thought that was all I was going to get, the most I’d ever gotten, but I couldn’t resist asking. </p>
<p>	‘What kind of stories?’</p>
<p>	‘Stories about birds,’ he smiled looking up at me, ‘a whole bird community. And each bird had their own story to tell. Grandfather was old, we didn’t have him long, but I always remember his stories.’ </p>
<p>	‘Harold…are you, are you asking me to make up some kind of bedtime story to tell you?’</p>
<p>	He glanced at me for a moment and then his eyes flicked down to his lap and he said, ‘I guess I am.’ And there was a little smile on his lips. I had to think fast then, I couldn’t blow it. I realized he’d given me a chance, not to take it lightly, but take seriously the chance he had given me. </p>
<p>	‘I’m not sure how good I’ll be.’ I told him honestly.</p>
<p>	‘Just say the first thing that comes into your mind and go with it.’ He advised.</p>
<p>	I thought for a while then said, ‘There was a kind man…he had a large Aviary, so he could care of birds, all kinds of birds. Some beautiful and rare, some plain and ordinary. Some had exquisite songs to sing, some squawked at the world and some didn’t make a sound. But they all needed help and the kind man gladly and generously gave it. But there were so many birds, the numbers grew and grew, and he couldn’t do it all by himself. He needed someone to volunteer, to help out and that’s when he found this other man, a man who’d lost his way…’</p>
<p>	I stopped then and Harold looked up, smiled at me and said, ‘Go on.’ So I did. I told their story and as I did, I sat down beside him. He closed his eyes eventually and then I stopped the story and leant over to kiss him on the forehead. And as I got up to go and search for a blanket I thought; ‘I want to be the tree this bird makes his home in. Somewhere safe to nest, shelter and feel content.’</p>
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